


My Angel

by jeannettebanana



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Fallen Angel Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluff, M/M, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:42:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23289454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeannettebanana/pseuds/jeannettebanana
Summary: Just a short fic of Crowley comforting fallen Aziraphale
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	My Angel

“Aziraphale? Aziraphale I know you’re in there, let me in for hell’s sake,” Crowley banged on the front door of the locked up old bookstore with his fist. Aziraphale hid in the corner. He had his back to the wall and was holding his arms close to his chest. The banging on the door continued. Crowley paced in front of the store. He wasn’t above breaking in, but he didn’t exactly want to destroy his angel’s store. 

Aziraphale gave a snap of his fingers. Crowley stopped as he heard the lock click and the door open a crack. His eyes widened behind his dark glasses and he rushed into the shop. “Aziraphale what in blazes is going on with you? You haven’t returned my calls, my letters, hell I even talked to Gabriel and he has no idea what's going on with you. What in the almighty’s universe are you-” 

At this point Aziraphale stepped out from the shadows. His normally pristine white hair was ashy and ruffled. His clothes that were normally pressed and perfect were wrinkly and his shirt only partially tucked in. Blackened wings with a couple of white feathers here and there sprouted from his back. Crowley slowly took his glasses off. He rubbed his eyes, hoping that they were deceiving him. Aziraphale fell to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks. He curled into himself at Crowley’s feet. 

“Ah come on Angel,” Crowley squatted down and rested his arms on his legs. Crowley took Aziraphale’s face in his hand. Aziraphale’s eyes were pure black. The tears streaming down his face were black as night, light flickering off like stars. Aziraphale pushed Crowley over, making him fall back on his butt. Aziraphale nuzzled into his chest, heavy sobbing wracking his whole body. Crowley wasn’t exactly comfortable with this. Demons don’t really do the whole comforting thing. Regardless he wrapped his wings around Aziraphale. Crowley held him close and softly rubbed his back. When Aziraphale finally ran out of tears he let his body rest against Crowley’s. 

“Is this what it felt like when you fell?” Aziraphale finally spoke up. Crowley was caught off guard by the question. He looked away.

“Not exactly,” He mumbled. 

“It hurts. It feels like fire burning in my chest. My wings ache like they are being pulled down towards hell,” Aziraphale confessed. 

“Well you have been crying for quite a while Angel,” Crowley cooed. Aziraphale pushed Crowley away from him. 

“I’m.. You can’t call me Angel anymore,” Aziraphale hugged himself and looked down at his feet. Crowley slid himself close to Aziraphale.

“Even if you aren’t an angel, you’re still  _ my  _ Angel.” Crowley gave Aziraphale a small kiss on the cheek, licking the salty tears from his lips. 


End file.
